Satan; My God
by Adrienne1
Summary: Put some Russians together with Harry Potter. Whee! We would have so much fun!


Satan; My God

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By Adrienne

A/N: Sorry for the corny title. Sorry for being so cliché on the plot and Mary-Sue/Gary-Stu on the characters. My brain is really happily high on euphoria. Can brains be high? Who knows? Anyway, I've just a few words on this fic. OK, currently I am _obsessed_ with Russians. And the obsession is scary and quite influential so expect a little bit of Russian mafias and vodka here and there. I know you must be wondering… What the bloody hell has Russians got to do with Harry Potter? Well, I'm not sure myself but one has to use a bit of nonsensical imagination. Another thing is that this fic is written when I'm depressed (well, not really but close). Hence, it is _not_ good and it _doesn't_ make sense. It would probably be incoherent and won't mean a single damn thing (Ooo, this fic has a lot of cursing too so be warned). A bit messy here and there (in fact everywhere…). I don't expect many reviews because who the hell is obsessed with Russians enough to incorporate them with Harry Potter? So in short, it's a stupid little fic written by a Russian-obsessed 13-year-old girl, review if you want to.

For the pairings, well, I'm not a H/H fan in fact I don't like them to be together. I go for D/Hr. Hee. Anyway, there is a reason why it's H/H and not otherwise. (Well, actually it's to keep my offline friends from reading this… they don't like H/H…) And as I'm writing about something I have never experienced, some facts will definitely be _very_ wrong. 

* * *

Finally, the famous wizard, Harry Potter, had defeated Voldemort. Or so they think… Weeks after the defeat, the invisible barrier between Magic and non-Magic folk had been torn down. Suddenly, the muggle governments know every secret about Wizards and Witches. The spells, the potions, everything… Someone must have tipped the governments off about all their secrets. They think that the Magic folk will take over them one day. The governments want them dead. And no one can change their minds once it is made up. The world is in chaos. Everyone is living in fear…

Well, that's just too bad.

* * *

"Not long now, Wormtail. One must be patient…" the dark figure hissed.

"Yes, master. Soon… soon thy Will be done." 

Moscow, Russian Federation 

A man stood outside the bardak, smoking his usual cigarette. Suddenly, a tall young woman walked passed him. He took the last puff of his cigarette before dropping it and extinguishing it with his shoe. Soon the female contact was gone and the man crossed the road before disappearing into a labyrinth hidden within Moscow's dark alleys.

London, England 

Six years have past since the graduation of Hogwarts' class of 1997. The last year that Hogwarts ever operated. Strangely, the muggles had been able to locate the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But that was in the past. Right now, Harry Potter is trying to load ammo into his PSG-1. He checked his scope to see whether the crosshair was working properly. Nowadays, if you didn't have a gun, you'd probably die… well, at least faster. Wands were confiscated as soon as they were found. Smuggling guns was the only to get your hands on one.

Harry was lucky. He managed to stay alive for six years since the so-called "war" started. He decided to try out his sniper gun on a few birds. Too bad it didn't have a suppresser, he thought. Hope no one minds dead birds falling from the sky though.

After five shots, he was satisfied the gun's handling. He then clicked the 'Safe' and ran his finger down the sleek design of the gun. He was "being with the gun" as he would say. But Hermione would detest, "Why don't you just be with _me_?"

There was a knock on the door. "Harry, it's me. Open please."

"It's not locked." Harry said as he polished his gun.

Hermione Granger entered, with a disgusted look on her face.

"Harry. It looks as if you love guns more than me." Hermione walked towards him.

He kissed her, "No, of course not dear."

"Hmmm, yes. You always say that." She walked towards the window and looked up towards the sky. "Looks like it's going to rain again."

Harry picked up the black sling bag he had packed earlier. "Got to go now. Bye." He kissed her again. "Will be back in two days' time."

He took his car keys on the coffee table and headed off to Heathrow International Airport. 

He walked downstairs to his car, a Nissan 350Z (stolen of course. Economy was looking bad with the recession going on). He drove down to High Street Kensington to pick up someone. London still looked fine despite the fact that everyone wasn't really going outdoors even the muggles and that few houses that previously occupied Magic families had been destroyed or torn down.

A few moments later, a raven-haired man also carrying a black sling bag came down from the apartment. He looked around before entering Harry's (stolen) car.

"Ah Dmitriy how was your day?" Harry greeted as he changed gears and drove towards Heathrow.

"Bad as usual." Dmitriy spoke in a perfect British accent. He checked Harry's bag. A good 10K, he smiled. "So what? Did you steal from an old lady this time?"

Harry turned left. "Nah, I'm not that heartless."

Dmitriy took out his bag and checked it. "Here are your passports and IDs and some new clothes. Ah, and the air tickets." He paused. "You know, Harry. Last time I'm doing this for you. We almost got caught the last time and I'm not going to risk it again." He handed his bag to Harry.

"Really, do you think I can find another Russian-speaking friend here who knows the trade and wants to work for me?" Harry chuckled. He had only started smuggling guns a year ago and had not really mastered the trade (and the language too).

"Only if you pay them better I guess."

"Ah, you greedy bastards." Harry muttered under his breath.

Dmitriy pretended to cough, which obviously meant that he heard him. "O, can you speak French?"

 "You're not passing us off as Parisians now are you?" Harry frowned; remembering the time Dmitriy gave him a German national. He was simply not his fault that Dmitriy knew how to speak seven languages fluently.

"No, no but it will be beneficial…" He smirked.

Harry feigned a grin. "Oh my god, I hired a lunatic."

* * *

_Bardak_ – Brothel (literal)

That's all, end of chapter one (or rather the prologue). I simply _must_ congratulate you for making it this far. Hard, wasn't it? Ha! And now I've got to thank some people.

My brother for the info on guns. So if you see any faults, it's his. For I only read Tom Clancy while he plays his games. But be warned, he's only nine-years-old (as of 2002). Mr. Clancy. Oh yes, I'm want of those TC-wannabes. Mwahahaha. Alex who writes bloody good fics. Go read her Snitch!. And you of course! Without you, this fic would be non-existent! Whee! 

By now you must have noticed that I have long A/Ns and credits… So much for the fic… Sigh… Chapter 2 coming as soon as I finish reading Executive Orders (yes, 1272 pages long). Kidding, it would take a week. Would you wait a week? I think you wouldn't. Nobody really bothers eh? Damn, speaking rubbish again. That's it. Really. Go review now.

Well, if you want to.


End file.
